Waiting at the airport is easily one of the most excruciatingly painful experiences, right next to getting a root canal. People rushing by, passenger transport vehicles whizzing here and there, baggage carts overflowing everywhere, the terminal like a city of its own, especially here at LAX, Los Angeles International Airport.
My parents booked our flight late last night, right after news of Grand Ma's my — —grandmother's death from lung cancer, due to her smoking more than two packs a day even though Big Tobacco claims that there are no links whatsoever. I did not cry about her passing away, not because I'm heartless but only because I never knew her, like a grandson should. I rarely saw her, only twice during the early years of my childhood, once when my family went on vacation, the other when I just started high school, both of them for only a few days, and now, the third and final time for her funeral. My grandmother, on my father's side, lived in Asia all of her life, never leaving once, not even for a short vacation. I think she was scared of flying. She possessed a very warm demeanor, from what I can remember, always offering candy to Jordan and me and always smiling, even with two missing front teeth. My most
— salient memory of her involves the news her watching of it. She would sit in her wooden rocking chair and watch Asian news channels all day from morning until dusk no joke.— Maybe that's where my dad got his news-watching obsession from, same with Mommy, Auntie, and Gabriel's parents, all of them from their own parents.
Grand Ma was a sweet, old lady unlike the typical Asian grandmother, like the one on my mother's side. That grandmother, whom I call Mean Ma, possesses a furious temper. She would scold and order her maids around constantly, even telling members of her own family what to do as if they're her own slaves. She lives in New York thank god! which is— — conducive to seldom visits to the East Coast. Believe it or not, domineering and oppressive grandmothers are a part of Asian culture. That's why I can't step foot into Gabriel's house
— without his grandmother yelling at him or even at me! The reason that Asian grandmothers act this way stems from a type of psychological displacement; they were treated wrong so they must treat others wrong. In Asia, sexism and misogyny are both pervasive, where men can seemingly step over women like they're dirt. With this type of prejudice and discrimination, it's no wonder that Asian women take it out on others, particularly their own children. Also, family structure and hierarchy in Asian culture play a strong role in the development of this mindset. Everyone's familiar with China's one-child policy, but what many people don't know is that many families will throw a baby off a cliff if it's a girl, only stopping until they conceive a male. In Asian culture, the first son is like winning a biological lottery, even though the chances are really just 50-50, go figure. So in Asia, men are meant to rule and women are meant to be subservient. Now I can empathize with why my grandmother, at least the one on Mommy's side, acts like a fascist.
But this doesn't excuse the fact that I don't know Grand Ma well at all. It's actually quite common among the younger Asian generation, for us not to know our own grandparents, even the background of our own parents. It's not because we don't care; it's because they don't share it with us. There's a saying in Asian culture, which I'll paraphrase: People don't“ remember the loud chatter of the fool, only the silence of the wise. Thus, Asian parents and”
grandparents are rather silent when it comes to sharing their family history and background. It's the same way with Gabriel. He doesn't know much about his parents or grandparents, even though they all live under one roof. No wonder there's a lack of communication in Asian
I can't believe that I've been sitting here in the same damn chair for almost two hours, waiting for our flight, the one that's being delayed indefinitely. I've been repeating the words— slut twat douschebag— nearly the entire time I've been waiting here, without fear or hesitation, because my parents only know common cuss words like shitand fuckbut have absolutely no idea of any other ones. Gabriel and I enjoy saying cuss words all the time out loud, especially in front of our parents, because they have no clue what's going on. Asian parents really need to stop being so ethnocentric with their culture and learn a thing or two about American culture, since they do live here.
Jordan, sitting to my right, is silently reading one of the many textbooks that she brought with her. I think she packed more textbooks than she did clothes, that nerd. I shouldn't make fun of her because I actually packed a bunch of textbooks as well, only because my finals are coming up in a couple of months. If I don't get A's, you know by now what will
—happen to me feather duster!
So you have Jordan doing her homework, my parents reading the paper, and just a few rows in front of us, a woman yelling at a man. And wouldn't you know it? they're Asian, too. I—
can't help but to eavesdrop since I'm bored, and besides, I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon, plus it sure beats the hell out of studying for my finals. From what I can make out, she's mad at him for packing the wrong clothes in his suitcase and forgetting to pack some other items. The man, presumably her husband, tells her not to yell in public, in order to save face. And as you now know, saving face is extremely important in Asian culture. After all, you can't have people thinking that Asians aren't perfect, so everything must look good on the outside, albeit, everything is completelymessed up on the inside. Asians secretly hide behind a facade of good grades, high SAT scores, big houses, nice cars, successful businesses, but deep down inside the heart of it all, their family lives are extremely dysfunctional. Look at the suicide rate alone for Asian Americans, astronomically higher than whites, blacks and Hispanics. In fact, Asian Americans have the highest suicide rate among women. Moreover, two million women attempt suicide in China every year, with many more not counted due to saving face. And in Japan, it's normal for people to jump off the subway platform onto a moving train. (This form of suicide is actually considered honorable because of saving face. But jumping onto a moving train will actually cause you to lose face and the— head, the arms, the legs, the entire body into tiny, little pieces.) The most disheartening is the fact that Asia possesses the highest suicide rate in the world! Sometimes, it's not so good to be #1.
— —pressure, blood pressure just kidding but not everyone jumps off a bridge because of pressure. So it's definitely more to it than just pressure. It's really because of the lack of communication and the lack of affection in Asian families.
In Asian culture, for instance, seeking help for personal issues is a sign of weakness, and thus, losing face. Once a person loses face, that person is deemed a failure, an outcast, a leper. That's why Asians stay silent and quiet, keeping it all bottled up. Then they find substitutes for the lack of communication and the lack of affection through money, status, and
— power because that's all they know how to do! Everyone has to be perfect, no one can have weaknesses, no one can ask for help, and absolutely no one can talk about any problems or issues, in order to save face. Asians think that if they don t talk about it, then it doesn t exist’ ’ —and therefore, all the problems go away wrong! The lack of communication is what
exacerbates all the problems and the issues. The lack of communication is why Asia has the highest suicide rate. The lack of communication which I'll go so far as to say — no —communication is why Asian families are so dysfunctional! There's no one in my family to talk to about my issues and no one to empathize with what I m going through, because I have’“ ”to save face, to maintain the perfection of Asian culture. But I become so alone that thoughts of suicide permeate fiercely within me, almost to the point of palpability. Asian parents have to understand that their children are not mindless robots, programmed to get straight A's and to overachieve beyond all measure and above everything else. We are human beings, too, that need love, affection, appreciation, and communication. That's why I envy so many non-Asian families here in America. They may not have the most money, the best cars, the nicest homes, but they have the most loving, caring and supportive families that will be there for them no matter what the circumstances are and will help pull them through any problem, big or small. That to me is immensely more important than getting straight A's, achieving a perfect SAT score, or even getting into medical school to know that my family—
will be there for me unequivocally, with genuine love and undying support. But the only thing I can hope for is to not get a beating from the good, old feather duster.
“ Now Boarding: Flight 6025, Los Angeles to... I hear the audio announcement for our”
flight, loud and clear, which means that we're ready to board an unbearably agonizing 15 hour, non-stop flight, while watching five continuous replays of the same in-flight movie, eating delicious gourmet airplane food and feeling completely miserable because of the cabin
— pressure and jet lag life doesn't get any better than this! Standing in front of us, as we're waiting in line, is a businessman, dressed in a black suit with a dark navy-blue tie looking— very uncomfortable maintaining the look of the status quo carrying a pager and PDA on his—
— belt, wearing a wireless headset like he's Secret Service, risking his life in order to protect innocent —corporations and handling four distinct carry-on luggages: a blue laptop case, brown nylon backpack, a black leather briefcase and a gray wheeled cabin tote, the trademark of any successful executive, or in my eyes, the overworked and underpaid. This man looks like one of those married to his job, talking loudly about a business deal deadline tomorrow morning. I also overhear him saying that he's been working over 100 hours a week, since last year, just on this business deal! For crying out loud, a job is just a job! why do— people make it more than what it is? You do it to get a paycheck, pay your bills, and that's it. Who really needs to work 100 hours a week to survive in America? And if you really think about it, the manager at a corporation and the cashier at McDonald's are not really that
— different both work for a paycheck and both have to kiss someone's ass. Sure, the paycheck is dramatically different, but it's not worth grinding 100 hours a week like a slave, working on weekends, being on call all night and day, having to drop everything on a whim just because
—“
”
“
”
your boss says so not my idea of what you call a dream job or miracle job. At least the guy at McDonald's doesn't have to be on call or work mandatory full time. Try telling your boss that you want half days from now on. Too many people are brainwashed by corporate culture, this farcical cognitive ideology that you have to give your entire life for the job. A job is just a job, to pay the bills and to have money left over to buy unimportant crap, like the habit of the average American.
Speaking of jobs, a friend of mine recently got hired at a software company and said that it's the dream job that he's always wanted. Just because he has his own little cubical where he gets to put a picture of his family on his desk, along with a cute, little coffee mug
“”
—
that reads: World's Greatest Dad, doesn't make it a dream job he still has to work his ass off! He works at least 70 hours a week, including weekends, as well as being on-call for
— emergencies and it's not like he's saving lives; he's just a software engineer! What my friend doesn't realize is that his dream job still makes him someone's stepping stool, taking orders from someone above and having to do whatever they tell him to do. Is a dream job really to take orders like a slave from someone above? It sounds more like a nightmare to me.
And trust me when I say that in any occupational field, there's always someone above you so just because you're above someone else, it doesn't make you all that special just— look up, and there's still an ass to kiss. Plus I find it funny that they give out special, little titles
“ ” “ ”like Executive Manager and Director of Operations, so that you feel important, when in reality, you're no different from an indentured servant, taking orders from someone above, as I have already mentioned. And the moment your company starts doing bad, you'll be the first to get that pink slip, no loyalty with these lovingand caringcorporations. I've heard of people working at companies for over 40 years, only to be fired because their pensions are too much. Remember: everyone's expendable, even the CEO, all working slaves until they don't need
— you anymore where's the honor in that? Corporations could care less about you since you're nothing more than a social security number enslaved to make them profit. Ironically, corporations are required by law to make profit, without regard to any moral or ethical value, so that's why there's no loyalty, and that's why corporations don't truly care about any of their employees. Because once they're done using you, they'll just use someone else. But too many people are living in bliss, in a state of denial and suffering from cognitive dissonance. People need to wake up and understand that our employment system, monetary system and every other system, including our government, is controlled by banks using the power of money. And what is the root of all evil?“ ”
Our monetary system is really nothing more than modern day slavery, with people having to submit to employment in order to pay off their debts, even though money, in the very first place, is created out of debt through loans by banks, specifically the Federal Reserve, a private banking institution that is as federal as Federal Express. Anyway, you can't pay off debt with more debt so therefore, this system continues to exacerbate, with billions of people working like hamsters running on the wheel, to fuel the empire that is the banking system, which controls the money that controls the wages that controls the labor that controls YOU. The only difference between slaves of the past and the slaves of today is that today, they are paid slaves. As Peter Joseph, producer of the film ZeitgeistAddendum “, said: Physical slavery requires people to be housed and fed; economic slavery requires people to feed and
” house themselves. In other words, slaves back then were shackled in locks and chains and slaves today are shackled in suits and ties. So instead of living and working like a paid slave, do what you truly love and most importantly, enjoy life that's what really matters. Of course,—
try telling that to Asian parents and see if you get the feather duster or steel-buckle belt.
The plane's completely full of passengers packed like sardines, so I try to maneuver the best that I can to my aisle seat way in the back. I manage to get all of my bags up into the top compartment, next to Jordan's textbooks. I've already eaten a full meal before leaving the house, so my plan is to just sleep through the entire trip there. I'm lucky that I'm a deep sleeper, with the ability to tune out my parents if they decide to nag, and best of all, ignore Jordan if she decides to brag.
It's been quite a while since I've been back to Asia, "The Wild, Wild East." It'll be good to get away from the pressures and stresses of school. Maybe I'll even get to meet some new friends. I just hope that the Asians in Asia aren't as focused about money, status, and power as much as the Asians are here in America or are they?—